She knew he cared a lot about this, and he always carried a mask or a scarf to cover himself.
Recalling his question, she replied, "Very good...you did very well."
She gently lifted the back of his head with one hand, bringing his face close to hers, and then tied the red scarf behind his head in a knot.
Yuwen Sheng's face was almost buried in Zheng Quchi's chest. His nostrils were filled with her scent and fragrance. This intimate and warm contact made him freeze suddenly, and for a moment he even stopped breathing.
After tying him up, Zheng Quchi gently placed his head back down. Seeing that he was still staring at him expectantly, he added, "Anyway... thank you for your hard work."
He followed her eyes, trying to find the emotion within them and the feelings he longed for, and asked her uncertainly, "Are you feeling sorry for me?"
He seemed to have asked this question before, but Zheng Quchi avoided the topic and changed the subject.
But now, she folded the stained, wet handkerchief and placed it aside, saying in a muffled voice, "I'm not that heartless. You're injured like this, and I'm still indifferent."
Yuwen Sheng pressed on, "How much does it hurt you? More than when I was injured last time?"
"Why are you comparing these things?" Zheng Quchi asked with a wry smile.
Yuwen Sheng lowered his eyes: "I once heard the Master say something: 'A valley of ten thousand stones is accumulated grain by grain; a thousand-foot cloth is woven strand by strand.' I want to sow seeds in your heart, hoping they will grow into fertile fields of ten thousand acres. I want to weave cloth in your mind, hoping you will see my sincerity and trust, and no longer regard me as a flood or a beast. I care about these things because I care."
He always restrained himself in front of her, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't help it. He bound his own hands and feet, willingly not resisting, but not without expecting anything in return.
Rather than saying he seeks a reward, it would be more accurate to say that he is determined to get what he wants, even if it means using every trick in the book.
Hearing these words, Zheng Quchi's heart was filled with turmoil. She pursed her lips and asked him in a hoarse voice, "Why...why do you care so much about my opinion? You...could it be that you like me?"
The moment the last question left her lips, she regretted it. She felt she had acted impulsively, that she must have lost her mind—how could she have asked him such a question…
"Like?" Yuwen Sheng was taken aback for a moment, then, after understanding the meaning slightly, he asked, "What does 'like' mean? Do you like me?"
His eyes were clearly empty, like a deep well, devoid of any light.
"……"grass.
I was just being delusional!
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